


Lights

by witch_lit



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: AU, Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - High School, Comfort, GLBTQA, GSA, M/M, Romance, Technical theatre, Theatre, lighting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-18
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-25 23:29:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/644094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witch_lit/pseuds/witch_lit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec didn't really expect his senior year to be so eventful. But then, he never really imagined that he would fall in love and while listening to ghosts of the past.</p><p>haha this is so abandoned lmao (01/04/2017)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Puppies or Kittens?

**Author's Note:**

> Tech is the technical departments of theatre, such as run crew, construction, costuming and lights, ect.

Lights Chapter 1: Puppies or Kittens?

"Hey Alec, puppies or kittens?"

The teen in question sighs, looking up from the half-assembled door frame he's working on. As usual, he's not sure how to answer the question; he likes cats more, as he has one, but he hasn't ever had a dog he can compare the situation with. Moreso, his preference between actual living cats and dogs isn't even what the posed question is about. So he shrugs, like always, deeming it the best course of action, and returns his focus to screwing platform to the door frame. It's none of anyone's business, really, and besides, they need to get their work done, same as him. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde's tech week starts on Monday next week, and there are still a few unfinished props and set pieces that need to be finished. The door, the actual door, is still being painted a blood red.

"So you're asexual?"

Alec sighs once again, looking up at the curious face of Jesus. Well, of the Jesus look-a-like whose real name is Zack. His head is slightly tilted, his hand positioned as if to stroke his short beard and his eyebrows are scrunched together. He has flakes of dandruff in his chest length dark brown hair and his beard helps him hide blotches and pimples, and Alec recons if he shaved, cleared his skin and got a haircut he could look good. He's a nice person, though often looks homeless, watching over the group of idiots that the freshmen have turned into, but Alec doesn't much care for the question Zach's asked him more than a couple times, though the times are often only once a quarter.

"Does it matter?" Alec asks, locking their eyes.

Zach shrugs. "Not really, no. Just curious."

Nodding, Alec sets his mind back to working on finishing the door, a slight frown settling on his face. Zach holds the support to the platform for stability while Alec goes for it with the screwdriver, but otherwise doesn't speak again. He's got a set to finish, and not enough time.

* * *

Alec frowns as his phone _bings_ , alerting him that Jace is done with football practice. Sighing, he gets his backpack, saying a quiet goodbye to the techies that helped today. Some nod toward him, Zach gives him a contemplative look and about three of the half dozen present squeeze him a paint-covered hug. He's glad he never wastes his time with wearing uncomfortable and expensive, stain-unwelcoming Abercrombie or American Eagle apparel his siblings fuss about. He wouldn't last a day in tech if he did.

Alec exits the warm school building to the chilling October air, pulling his sweater tighter as he makes his way to his car. They don't let students park in the lot, for fear of butchered cars (a rule that Alec can agree with after helping his sister learn to drive), but it's hardly a hike to the worn out car Alec can see his adopted brother next to. The football player is leaning against the (undoubtedly freezing) metal passenger side door, his body nearly radiating heat from the exercise. His golden hair is damp, his damp skin unevenly dried, and his eyes look a bit tired under their light brown, nearly gold tint.

He's beautiful, something he won't let Alec forget. His pronounced jaw, not-too-thin eyebrows and the sheer amount of confidence he walks around with draws Alec in like a moth to a flame. Not that Jace would ever know, not when Alec burried his feelings under friendship and brotherhood. Silly disguises Alec could hardly live without.

"How was your theatre thing? Get any lines?" Jace asked as Alec neared, waiting for the car door to be unlocked.

"You know I'm never on stage, Jace," Alec rolled his eyes, shoving his beaten up silver key into the lock and slipping into the car. He reached across the big seat the covered a majority of the front, pulling up on the lock to let his adopted brother in.

"Mmm," Jace hummed, throwing his bag into the back seat while Alec did the same. "I have a game tomorrow."

"It's a Friday. I'm not surprised." Alec turned the key in the ignition, sighing and trying again when it didn't work.

"It's the last game of the season." Jace rolls his eyes at his brother's lack of knowledge. But then, it wasn't unusual. The school, Garfield, was more focused on its very successful theatre program than sports. The only sport anyone cared about was cross country skiing, because nearly everyone did it.

"Do you want me to go?" Alec asks, looking both ways then rolling through the stop sign.

"Clary's going. I don't want her to not have anyone to go with."

"Won't she go with her friend, Simon, or whatever his name is?" Alec asks absentmindedly, not really caring about Jace's girlfriend. Maybe he would, if she wasn't the bitch who makes his brother restless when Alec can only dream of similar feats.

"I don't trust him with her. Just you wait, he's going to pull something."

Alec rolls his eyes. Not everyone is trying to steal Clary away from Jace, contrary to his opinion. She's not that cute, just a short red-head Jace supposedly feels something for. It's probably his hormones acting up or something. Like most high school relationships, it'll never last. Not that Jace would listen to him say that without a word of defense or protest.

"So will you go?"

"Fine," Jace smirks as Alec gives in. "But not to guard over your girlfriend."

They spend the rest of the trip in silence, listening to the radio Alec's annoyance at his adopted brother had generated. As much as Alec loved Jace, he still annoyed the fuck out of the older boy sometimes. However, Alec knew he would be upset if he murdered the resident golden boy. It wasn't worth the time he'd spend in jail for it.

Alec pulls over in front of a mid sized greyish brown house that he can still remember being white in the spinning memories of his childhood. He can remember when, before his siblings, flowers used to grow and his parents got on well. He can remember when they didn't fight, he can faintly even remember when they were home more often than not. He can remember so much more than he wants to. He can still remember people dancing through the halls, smiles and laughter filling the frame that's now a phantom.

The lights are on but the hallways are empty when Alec opens the door to the porch, where he and Jace pull off their shoes. Izzy always turns the lights on and forgets to turn them off when she leaves the room, causing the house to always give the false impression of being warm and maybe even inviting to anyone looking in. The light that fills the house makes you look past the lack of family photos, the slightly lighter rectangle on the wall where a frame used to be, empty magnets on the fridge that might once have hosted drawings or been a miniature shrine to the residents' lives and accomplishments. The light makes you look past the chill that sometimes runs through the house, it instead sends a pleasant and slow feeling through one's lazy veins, vanilla air fresheners giving off the impression of a niceness that only exists in locked away corners and secret compartments to the desolate place that five people and a cat (another lie, as it's evil to anyone but Alec, he honestly doubts it wants to be there) wish to call home.

No matter how much the siblings, all three of them, love each other, there's still a void somewhere. It doesn't get named, though. They all ignore it, because it's mostly irrelevant, only pressing into their chests when they're alone and scared. When it's been a bad day, or it's _the_ bad day.

Isabelle is nowhere to be seen as Alec and Jace enter the kitchen, Jace going straight for the off-white refrigerator that freezes anything you put in the middle of the top shelf. The golden boy grabs an apple and turns to his brother.

"What are we having for dinner?" He asks, chewing on the meat of the fruit.

"How should I know?" Alec asks irritably, dropping his school bag on the cement island they use as a dinner table when their parents aren't around (most of the time).

Jace shrugs, leaning up against one of the tiled counters that's actually still white. "Either you or Izzy are going to cook, and you tend to be head chef. Thank the angels in the sky."

Alec rolls his eyes, walking over to the pantry. "Put the pot on," he calls to Jace, reading off all the different names on the red and white boxes. "We're having Rigatoni."

"Yes!" Jace says, his voice laced with sarcasm. "More pasta!"

Alec shrugs as he brings the box to the table. "If you want something exciting, make it yourself."

"Cooking doesn't look good on me," Jace smirks, putting the pot of water on the stove stove.

"Not from where I'm standing," Alec jokes with a smile, before he drops it as he realizes the implications of what he said.

Jace puts his hand over his chest, a false apologetic look gracing his features. "I know I'm beautiful, but I'm taken."

That hurts more than it should to hear from his brother.

* * *

Alec sighs, looking over the stacks of paper he's spread out on the actual dining room, a nice dark wood thing that hosts one of his main stresses as of late. College and scholarship applications, homework and a headache lay in full effect in front of him, and he's glad he's only just putting on the finishing touches, not just starting them. What a nightmare that was. He's going to send them all out soon, get it over and done with. See if anyone wants him, and as far as he's concerned, the farther away, the better. He wouldn't mind moving across the country , away from bad memories. He'd worry about his siblings, but they can probably take care of themselves. Okay, so maybe moving so far away isn't a good idea.

Sighing, Alec looks over his papers, debating going through them and sorting out the colleges that are too far away to go to. It would be a lot of work, and getting away doesn't sound that bad. He'd just have to call a lot, and wouldn't be able to visit often because of airfare...

"Hey."

Alec jumps slightly, turning to the soft voice he recognizes as his sister's. He nods to her, keeping his gaze from the monsters sitting dauntingly in front of him. What if they're not good enough? Did he misspell something, are his reasons for wanting to attend each college wrong?

"I have this friend..." Isabelle mentions, grabbing Alec's attention as his big brother alert starts to scream.

"Yes?" He's stiff in his seat, waiting for the inevitable to come.

"He's really nice. He likes music like you do and he's interested in theatre."

Alec nods, waiting for his sister to go on about this crush he really doesn't want to hear about. She's already had a few boyfriends, which was more than Alec was ready to deal with. He doesn't know what he's going to do with _another._

"I was wondering if you'd meet him for coffee or something sometime."

Wait. Little sister said what? It wasn't about her?

"Isabelle!" Alec hisses, looking around for signs of life.

"Don't worry, Jace is taking a shower. Is that a yes, then?" Her eyes are wide and pleading, but a fear (a guilt) shoving its way up his throat gives her the answer she is undoubtedly expecting.

"No." No hesitation, straight for it.

"But Alec," Isabelle pleads.

"I said no," There it is, that parental tone of finality he can sometimes pull off. You spend long enough with a Stage Manager and your understanding of how to control unruly actors increases a tenfold. Of course, and unfortunately, this only half applies to siblings.

"You should come out, at least."

"No," Alec shakes his head. "It's not going to happen."

"Alec... No one at school will care. It's not like we aren't thickly populated by homosexuals and transgendered."

It's true, too. Just this week at lunch, Alec saw two girls sitting with their hands intertwined and foreheads pressed together, sharing secret words and not out of place kisses. They looked just like any other couple, just two girls, something the school was not unaccustomed to. Guys might get a bit worse, an odd comment or question but none of that was what Alec was really terrified of. He was much more afraid of the people behind the scenes, the ones who could be home one day and silently watch Alec's life like they had a remote and he was their personal TV.

"Izzy, no."

"Why not?" Isabelle isn't joking, the harshness in her eyes and suppressed warmth in her voice suggesting more than play.

Alec's back is straight and stiff, his shoulders taking on his stress and becoming stony while his fists clench. "I can't. I don't want to talk about it, either."

Isabelle sighs, wishing this conversation would go well for once. "Please, Alec, I just-"

"This isn't about you, Isabelle, and I don't want to talk about it so please. Leave it."

"Sorry," Isabelle whispers. "Will you at least come to the GLBTQA meeting on Monday?"

"GLBTQA?" Alec asks, a bit surprised that Isabelle's come up with new material for this argument.

"Yeah. Gay Lesbian Bisexual Transgender Queer. The A either stands for Ally or Asexual. I've heard both." Isabelle shrugs, but her eyes are pleading.

"Tech week starts on Monday. I'll be busy after school, I'm designing the lighting for Jekyll and Hyde."

"It's during school. Third hour this week, I think. It rotates between second, third and fourth." Isabelle offers up.

"I'll miss class." He doesn't want to have any unexcused absences. They call the house if he is, and then he'll have to explain that no, his parents aren't home, and no, he's not completely sure when they will be.

"You get excused. You write your ID number on a paper they pass around, and it's excused. No one knows where you go except the people in that room. Or if you tell them. They've got a secrecy thing. What happens in GLBTQA stays in GLBTQA."

"The people in the room will know I was there. They'll think I'm gay," Alec protests.

"Or an Ally," Isabelle adds. "I go every meeting but no one thinks I'm gay."

"Yeah, but... You've dated lots of guys. Nobody doubts what you're attracted to." Alec's not really comfortable with this. Talking about his sister's preferences or his own.

"Alec... just go to one meeting. Nobody's going to ask you if you're gay. The people in there tend to have a bit of respect for privacy, as a lot of them aren't out to anyone but the group."

Alec sighs. "Will you get off of my back about coming out if I go?"

Isabelle jumps a little, clapping her hands together and smiling. "Yes!"

It's the first step towards getting him comfortable with coming out.

"Now go away, I need to finish these applications up so I can mail them out tomorrow."

"Sure thing, college boy," Isabelle's smiling when she leaves to her precariously painted room.


	2. Football and Feasts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The game and the weekend that follows.

Chapter 2: Football and Feasts

The day passes slowly, and there's no tech on Fridays, so instead Alec finds himself with a ticket to the football game, waiting for the pep rally that goes with it to be over. Having a bunch of teenagers crowded into a rather small gymnasium isn't one of his favorite pass-times, nor is having them clap too loudly for something. Of course, the kid next to him swallowing down pills isn't too disruptive, just someone trying to get out of attending class. Skipping, probably. Likely isn't going to the game, which is how you get into the pep rally anyway.

Alec's kind of stuck in between congratulating him on getting past the guards and asking if he'll share. Probably not the best idea, as he has no idea what the kid is downing. Probably Addie, knowing the school's tendencies towards it, but there's always the odd mix going around. Best not to risk it, stick to pot. Everyone smokes pot, even if the concentration is unpredictable.

Turning his attention back to the rally, Alec looks once again for Jace's girlfriend. He can't see her fiery hair, though she might just be blending with the artificially colored kids that seem to infest high school hallways. Every one seems to constantly be changing color, like rainbows, be it their whole head or just little clips and extensions. Rainbows all over, haunting Alec, because every time he sees one he remembers that they're not acceptable for him. Dark clothes, dark hair. Pale skin, features normal enough that he doesn't get too much attention drawn to him. No one's going to question it, except the odd kid, like Zach, who was raised in an environment where asking is always better than assumption. And if he goes to the GLBTQA meeting on Monday...

Sighing, Alec scans the faces for Clary, double-checking the faces, until eventually he manages to recognize Simon, with Clary standing beside him, her short head barely visible in the sea of bodies. Seeing them together, laughing a bit, undoubtedly joking about the rally and its participants, Alec can kind of understand why Jace worries. Simon's a nice kid, and he obviously loves that girl, whether platonic or not Alec doesn't assume to know. But they fit so perfectly together, like they were made to stand next to each other and giggle about silly things. Like they were made to get on, in one way or another.

Looking to his vacant side, Alec wishes he could have someone like that. Someone who would always be next to him, not a constant commentary but talkative enough to keep Alec interested. Someone who would be able to stand by him and no one would question it. Maybe, if he really cared about having people around him. If he could forget for long enough that they'll leave eventually, that he'll be alone in the end no matter what. If he could just forget that he has secrets that shouldn't be spilled. But it's fine, he's used to it. Ever the older brother.

Alec makes his way through the cheering (and/or stoned) masses, trying to keep Simon in his sights. He's tall enough to keep a near constant visual, though he can't say the same about Simon, who keeps unknowingly ducking behind a rather at-ease six-foot four boy in Alec's Grade 12 English class. He's seen him in a play or two as well, theatre kid. But despite the tall Asian-looking kid blocking his view, his name has to start with 'M' or something, Alec makes his way to his adopted brother's girlfriend and her best friend. He just looks at the 'M' boy, sparkly and bright, yelling towards the front with the rest of the (participating) students, grinning and sparing the odd word for the friends around him, and just past them he finds his targets.

The girl he can't help but hate, for taking Jace away from him, and the boy he feels little more than occasional annoyance towards. Nerds, the both of them, pitching Doctor Who shirts and referencing Sherlock. They've divided up the titles already; Clary as Watson, Simon as Sherlock. Though Alec imagines that Clary Fray isn't a Watson, but more of a front-seat, Sherlock-ish person. Though she certainly doesn't have the brains for it, but neither of them do. So it doesn't matter anyway, as Alec would never tell them that this is what he thinks. They'd get the ridiculous idea that he's  _indulging_ them.

"Hey Alec," Clary smiles as she notices him, though her words are largely drowned out by the roar of the crowd. Five minutes until the end of the final lessons of the day, and a half-hour before the game.

Alec nods hello to the red-head, before doing the same to Simon.  _Keep Calm and Don't Blink_  is written across his blue t-shirt in a white font, and a box is above the wording. A Tardis. Something he can't possibly  _not_ know after being in tech for three, going on four, years. He's constantly getting told about how he should watch Doctor Who, Firefly, and even the occasional suggestion for Ouran High School Host Club. Techies are weird, it's undeniable. Sometimes Alec's sure he's the only person there close to sane, then he remembers that there are a few problems with that theory.

The rally ends and all of the students trickle out of the gym, walking across the street in the crisp October air to the adjacent football field. Clary and Simon talk on, exchanging wits and just  _talking,_  nothing that Alec finds particularly relevant. They sit in the metal bleachers, a permanent fix, on the side of the field closest to the school. Alec's pretty sure that's only because they're the closest seats to the school and they're all too lazy to lug their asses across the field. He sits a bit apart from them, a space big enough for two or three people to sit, and they take the hint and don't try to initiate him into their conversation too much. A nod or grunt is all they get when they ask, but they hardly do. Alec's glad he's got his English book to keep him company, a piece called Middlesex, and it keeps him company as the game begins. He reads up to where he was supposed to just as the 15 minute point is marked. He notices Clary smiling, jumping for Jace, and Simon watching her, more or less neutral.

Looking at the field, he realizes that Jace is on and smiles. He's not going to be bouncing up and down in his seat, screaming for Jace, for his lawful brother, but he can smile and admire the view. Like Simon is doing for Clary. Like everyone in the world has or will likely do for someone else at some point in their life. The world is calm, even with the crowd, and Simon is staring at Clary in a way Alec can understand, because it's the way Alec stares at Jace. But like Alec, Simon wouldn't act on it, would he?

He's sure Simon won't say anything, won't bother them, because, as much as both of them hate it, Jace and Clary are happy together. Though when Clary runs to Jace's sweaty, victorious arms after the game, Alec isn't so sure. The wound of jealousy hits him, getting him sour all over, and the expression across Simon's face is different, more hurt, more intense. But it'll be fine, because Jace and Clary will go on, as the people who are so obviously the hero and the heroine of their own stories so often do. The nerdy art kid and the jock, a second only to the slut and the jock. And Alec, for one, is glad that Jace is done with those.

When Clary and Jace decide to go to the after party together, Alec's heart hurts and he's not alone in that aspect. He offers Simon a ride to his house, sparing him an empty ride on public transport, and Simon agrees. He might hate Alec a little, in the same way that Alec hates Simon, but he's not going to turn down a free ride. They only hate each other for being related to a cause of pain. A bitter annoyance, an unfair blame. They just have to let it go, try finding common ground. Alec thinks that maybe he can.

That doesn't mean he'll finally start watching Battlestar Galactica, though.

* * *

Alec lies in bed for a minute, half asleep, before rolling out of his warm haven and into the cold nothingness, his feet slapping unceremoniously on hardwood floors as he makes his way down the stairs and to the bathroom on the first floor of the house. The stairs creak a little, not really because they're too old but more because they  _can._ The house is over a hundred years old, like a lot of the houses in the neighborhood, but that doesn't mean that Alec can't think that the stairs are moaning underneath him just because of brittle wood. No, it's like they're mocking him, deliberately waking him up enough with their noise so he won't be able to fall back asleep for another half hour or so after he gets back to bed.

His ears pick up as the front door opens and he hears rustling near the front of the house. His body wakes up a bit more as he grows anxious, pulse picking up as he moves in the unlit house towards the noise. He sighs in relief when he recognizes the shadowy figure as Jace, smiley and happy and in another world. He's glad it's Jace, not someone else, not the person who always promised to come on night in the dark. Shivering, Alec steps out into the small room, announcing his presence to his adopted brother.

"Jace."

Said person nods towards Alec, selling the dark-haired teen a smile and a quick tale of needing to get to sleep before disappearing up the stairs. Quietly, unlike when Alec walks up the stairs. Forgiving. Alec stays alone in the dark for a minute before rubbing his arms and making his way up the demented wooden stairs that like to play favorites, complaining under his weight. He closes his door more loudly than he would have liked, but still hardly loud at all, and glances at the clock as he makes his way to his bed.

As he soaks in the numbers, he takes a minute, slipping under the covers and curling up, a frown set on his face. Something inside him starts to tremble, a foundation cracking. The after party ended at midnight. It's long past midnight, early enough that his parents should be up and off in an hour or two. Pushing his eyes together and bringing his nerves into an inescapable void, he tries to forget what he's feeling and sleep. He attempts to forget the hours that Jace spent alone with Clary.

* * *

Alec glances over the blue mat, familiar terrain, turning his attention back to his partner. He needs to practice. He always needs to practice.

Launching himself at Jace, he tries not to think about their proximity. He lets his limbs wind in familiar techniques, calculating, always planning the next step, dodging and missing and being just a step behind-as usual. He's not in his grove, he's done this so many times before but sometimes he just can't forget that it's Jace. That Jace is trying to touch him and he's got to pull away, or stop it. It's hard to want to hit him, usually, but today Alec's slowly finding that he kind of wants to hit Jace. He probably won't get the shot, they're usually a pretty even match, but it feels good to 's into it, and soon he's not even focusing on Jace, he's focusing on the exercise, the training. He needs to do this, so he does, his body moving back and forth, up and down, his balance being placed and replaced, sweat providing a thin and sticky layer over his light skin. This, this is what he needs. He needs to work his body, best prepare himself from anything that could happen in the future.

* * *

The Lightwoods are crowded around the table, enjoying a slightly stiff meal on Sunday night. There's small talk about what's happened in the past week, as Robert and Maryse only ever have this one day off, and the teenagers answer it the best they can. They tell them the bare minimum, and only occasionally go into detail or launch into a tirade about this or that. They don't share things they talked about earlier in the week with each other, just "I had a test in PreCalc," or "We won the football game."

They have something other than pasta, a soup with tan spherical mashings of matzo, potatoes, garlic and noodles. What they always have on Sunday, unless Maryse is feeling particularly creative. Alec knows how to make it, from a small family recipe book he's found, but never does. It's not that it takes too long, because it only takes a half hour, but because it's his mother's. It's how you know if she's home for the night, because she always, always makes it. Or enchiladas, but that's rare. She likes the predictability of it, because it's not like her work.

The Lightwood parents lead a particularly dangerous job working for the government, though none of the children know exactly what it is. It's a secret, and the lips around the house are sewn shut with a very thick chord. But both mother and father have come back with scrapes and bruises, the occasional broken finger and once an arm tucked away in a plaster. While very curious, Alec, Jace and Isabelle know better than to ask. They won't get any answers, they never have.

As they're loading the dishwasher after dinner, the phone rings and a minute later a frowning Maryse is in the kitchen doorway, pulling Alec and the phone aside. As he listens, and reluctantly agrees, his mind travels back a few years to things he doesn't want to remember. Things no one wants to remember.

* * *

_Screaming. Terror. Pai_ n.  _Loss. A ransom, rough lips against his own. Whispers, seeping liquid and shoving hands. Fear. Death, death, death... Another kiss, a promise, reality pressing down and there's so much_   **screaming.**   _Bodies frozen or rushing all around, desperate to help, to be safe. Ear-splitting noises in bursts. Chaos. Bones grinding together, minds flowing together in panic. This can't be happening. It's not. It can't be, because he can't be-_ **  
**

Alec jolts awake, his eyes flying open as his hand gropes at his side, his breath rugged. He lays on his back for a moment, collecting himself, before looking at the clock and wondering how the hell he's going to do that. He makes his way down the creepy ass stairs and even further to the basement, thankful for the mat on the floor and the punching bag to practice with. He's hardly slept at all, and he knows that the next few nights are going to be rough despite the exhaustion he'll get from tech week which fucking starts today. Despite the part where he'd like to be well rested for the stress of the GLBTQ meeting he promised Isabelle tomorrow.

Alec pours all of his frustration, his fears, onto that punching bag. He needs to be enough, he must be... He has to be. He'll make it, he's good. Everything is good. His life is fine. It's not going to fall into chaos. Everything is alright. All these thoughts twirling in his head, they're not empty. He  _means_ them.

 


End file.
